


artless is my heart

by havisham



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: 5 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Gay Character, Jossed, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five facts about Thomas's love life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	artless is my heart

 

 **I.**

Jamie had promised that he would teach Thomas how to smoke. And Thomas, suspicious, thought he might turn around and report him to the matron for a hiding, but no, Sunday morning, Jamie gestured for him to follow, and at the back of the orphanage, Jamie lit his cigarette as Thomas watched.

Jamie was only a year or so older than Thomas, but he had an air of world-weary intelligence that set Thomas’ teeth on edge. He was all long limbs and fair hair -- with hooded blue eyes that didn’t miss much. He made Thomas, who was still small for age, feel younger and more hopeless. The matron liked Jamie even less than she liked Thomas, and she didn't like Thomas at all. 

Smoking was a dirty habit, matron often said, with a long look at Jamie. 

But for Thomas, smoking might be a good thing, if it could make him forget certain things. Like how cold it got at nights, and in the early mornings, or really any place outside the smoky kitchens. It made him forget the way the work they had him do made his hands bleed and crack, and how he still missed his mother, though she’d been in the ground these six months. 

Thomas leaned against the stone wall and watched the way Jamie’s red mouth curved around the cigarette, and how his cheeks (already thin) hollowed even more as he sucked at it, his throat working over it. 

Jamie caught him watching and blew out the smoke at his general direction with a sort of friendly insolence. Then he offered his cigarette to Thomas. 

Thomas took it cautiously and copied everything Jamie had done. His mouth soon filled an acrid smoke. His eyes began to water and smart, and he wanted nothing more than to retch everything out. 

Jamie watched him, curious and bemused. 

Thomas swallowed, hard. And then began to cough. He bent forward, his hands gripping his knees, gasping for breath. Jamie touched the back of his neck lightly, saying, “No one gets it right the first time.”

**II.**

The duke learned enough about him with a bored glance or two. 

“I’ll show you, if you’d like,” he said, lips cool against Thomas’ flushed cheek. 

“What will you show me, my lord?”

“Why, everything.” And he laughed, though Thomas did not know then that the joke was himself.

 **III.**

The war brought many opportunities to Thomas, not all that could be measured in uniforms, bodies, discharge papers. But none of it was very good -- the fear of dying, all the time -- saw to that.

**IV.**

Courtenay was beautiful but hapless, and Thomas felt that he should not feel any sort of pity for him. But he did -- well, he felt something, anyway.

Thomas was not inclined to pity others. It was a novel sensation -- slow tightening of the throat, a slight ache around the region of the heart. And Courtenay was -- well. They got to talking, the two of them. And unlike some of the other patients, Courtenay seemed to think Thomas was worth talking to, though he was only a humble orderly. 

(There was nothing humble about Thomas, but Courtenay didn’t know that.) 

“May we go walking today?” Courtenay’s voice cut through the haze of Thomas’ thoughts, his head a little and a little smile on his lips. 

“If you’d like, sir, I’ll ask Nurse Crawley,” Thomas said, trying not to notice how Courtaney brightened up at the mention of Lady Sybil. 

But later, Courtenay leaned heavily against him and said, quietly, “I like this.” 

Thomas tightened his grip around Courtenay’s arm and thought how it would feel to run his hands through Courtenay’s hair -- with whole hands, and to have Courtenay lift his head see him with eyes clear and china-blue. 

_Impossible._

**V.**

It turned out that Jimmy didn’t know what he wanted, had no idea at all, and his film-star looks frozen up and his mouth hung open a little when Thomas got close enough to touch. There was a long moment when Thomas hung back -- his instincts warring with themselves, get back some said, no -- enough of that, said others. 

They all went quiet when Thomas kissed him, lapsed in shock.

_You’ll regret it, boy, you’ll regret it._

 

But Thomas was a thief at heart -- and as Jimmy grabbed at him, rumpled his collar, his mouth more merciless than anything Thomas could spit out -- Jimmy was the best thing he had ever stolen.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from a poem by Brenda Shaughnessy.


End file.
